


Fallen Snow

by SadinaSaphrite



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Near Death Experiences, Post-Genji Chilling the Fuck Out, Pre-Recall, Works for Both Romantic and Platonic Genyatta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 20:44:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14221452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadinaSaphrite/pseuds/SadinaSaphrite
Summary: Genji lay face down in the snow, head turned to the side, suddenly aware of the silence around him. The EMP had completely killed all his cybernetics; he didn’t even have enough power for emergency readouts in his visor. Everything was just…off. He tried to move, but it was like his body couldn’t respond, couldn’t even move his head, leaving him staring at the same spot in the snow, able to see one arm sprawled in front of him.He took a sharp, ragged breath. His heart was still pounding in his chest, having just climbed over the entire village and sprinted halfway down the mountain, but now he seemed to be struggling for breath.Oh.Oh.It wasn’t just his prosthetic limbs that were offline. It was everything. One of his lungs was synthetic and a good portion of his circulatory system was artificial. His cybernetic body was more than just prosthetics and enhancements, it was his life support.And it was dead.





	Fallen Snow

Peace.

In thirty-three years, never had Genji truly felt peace. He’d had moments when he was happy, sure. Content, even. But before coming to the Shambali, never had he experienced the feeling of being well and truly at peace. He’d had too much anger, too much conflict, both within his life and within himself. It had taken years of effort, along with the guidance and tutelage of one particularly patient and understanding omnic monk, but Genji had at last found peace.

And nowhere was he more at peace than when he was meditating with his Master. They sat side by side in a matching lotus within one of the deep chambers of the temple, awash within the warm glow of the Iris. The temple did well to silence the distractions of the outside world; Genji couldn’t even hear the song of the Himalayan wind from within the inner sanctum’s deep chambers. As he let his mind ascend into blissful tranquility, he let himself absorb the few sounds that rang against the profound silence. He slowly became aware of the monotone drone of Zenyatta’s processing units, steady and grounding to his left, then the gentle hum of his own cybernetics, the whir of his respiratory ventilator, and the rhythmic beating of his own heart, starkly organic amid the rest of the synthetic life he’d surrounded himself with. Occasionally, one of Zenyatta’s orbs would chime with a pure, clear note, aiding Genji in sinking deeper into his meditation.

They could remain that way for hours, finding peace in quiet introspection, and the pair had indeed planned to spend the rest of the evening that way, letting time glide around them and feeling the flow of the Iris and the universe drift by.

_Dong._

One of Zenyatta’s orbs chimed, but the note was sour, the sound so discordant and jarring that it broke Genji from his meditation. He raised his head in surprise, looking over at the omnic beside him. A younger Genji would have demanded an explanation for the interruption, but he now understood the value of patience, and knew if he waited, his wise Master would offer an explanation once he’d-

Zenyatta put a hand to his forehead and made a sharp, static sound of pain.

 _Fuck_ patience.

“Master?” Genji didn’t bother to hide the worry in his voice, turning anxiously to face him. “What’s wrong?”

“Forgive me, but I must end our session early. I fear something is amiss down in the village,” Zenyatta said, orbs shifting from their meditative state to close around him. “I am picking up the frequency of the village distress beacon.”

Genji leapt fluidly to his feet. 

“Then we must go to them!”

“Wait, my student,” Zenyatta’s voice was even, but held a note of urgency. “It would be unwise to rush into danger as a rabbit to a snare. We know not what awaits us.”

“Then I’ll be quiet about it,” he replied vehemently, already headed for the stairs. “But I’ll not sit by while the village is in danger!”

Genji was out the door and sprinting down the mountainside before Zenyatta could reply. 

The world outside the temple was deceptively peaceful. Night had fallen and it had begun to snow, thick fluffy flakes drifting in silence around him. He could hear nothing out of the ordinary, but the village was halfway down the mountain and the snowfall could easily dampen any sounds of commotion. 

He started down the mountain at a sprint. The cloud cover hid the moon, but the enhanced night vision in his visor made the mountainside appear as bright as midday. He didn’t bother with the switchbacks of the paved pathways, instead racing straight down the mountain slope, nimbly leaping across rock and snow.

Never in all his years here had he heard of a distress beacon being activated. Hell, he didn’t even know they _had_ distress beacons. Something he’d have to ask Zen about later. There had been occasional natural disasters over the years; avalanches, rockslides, storms, but nothing the Shambali hadn’t been able to handle. That meant that whatever was happening right now was out of their league, and Genji’s overactive imagination was all too happy to provide a list of horrible possibilities for him.

Terrorists were at the top of his list. Anti-omnic and pro-omnic extremists were equally unhappy with the peace the Shambali were trying to garner between omnic and organic peoples. There were plenty of people out there who were anti-Iris as well, fearing that the Iris was a new form of God Program, ready to start a new omnic crisis.

Genji slid down a sheer cliff face and leapt to a boulder below, fast approaching the shrine that sat halfway down the mountainside, between the temple and the village. Fear twisted at his gut. What if this was his fault? What if this was someone with a grudge against him, personally? Talon? The tattered remains of the Shimada? Between the yakuza, Overwatch, Blackwatch, and his own charming personality, he’d built up a long list of enemies over the years. If his past was responsible for bringing danger to the monks here…

He swallowed that thought as he reached the Shrine. Thank the Iris that Mondatta was currently in Europe. If anything happened to him, he’d never be able to forgive himself. It took only seconds for him to dart roof to roof, sprinting across the sparse collection of buildings until he reached the cliff edge to see the village below.

It was burning.

Genji’s heart skipped a beat, then he was on the move once more, scaling down the cliff face with inhuman speed and agility. His mind and heart felt ablur, the calm of the evening’s meditation long forgotten as his thoughts spun circles around themselves in an ouroboros of guilt, fear, and anxiety.

He slowed as he grew close enough to the village to smell the smoke through his ventilator. He activated his stealth settings, disabling the green lights on his body armor, and approached silently. Thank god he was armed. His wakizashi was in his room, but his cybernetic body was automatically armed with shuriken and he never went anywhere without Ryūichi moji, the nodachi strapped to his back. He dropped over the last rocky outcropping and crouched behind a low wall, surveying the chaos before him.

Several buildings were on fire, but it wasn’t as bad as it had looked from the Shrine, and the heavy snowfall was already helping to combat the flames. Strangers stomped around the village, humans dressed in heavy cold-weather gear and night vision goggles, spread through the village and appeared to be ransacking the place. They looked as if they were searching for something. As Genji looked closer, he found the scattered, still forms of several omnic monks, motionless under a layer of fallen snow.

Fury boiled in his blood and he began to rise, reaching for the blade at his back.

“So good of you to join me, my student,” said Zenyatta from just behind him.

Genji’s heart leapt into his throat and he spun around, Ryūichi moji half out of her sheath before he calmed.

“M-Master?” he whispered frantically, crouching back down behind the wall. “But…how did you-”

Zenyatta raised a hand to silence him.

“I haven’t taught you all the secrets of the Iris,” he said, voice pitched carefully low to not draw the attention of the intruders. “Including the back passageway that connects the temple to the village.”

Genji stared at him from behind his visor, but was spared from having to come up with a coherent reply to that as his Master continued.

“I have been observing for a short while. It appears these individuals have come with the misguided notion that there is some sort of treasure to be found in the monastery.”

Genji was taken aback. That wasn’t on his list at all.

“I saw…bodies,” he whispered back. The words were hard to say aloud. He knew everyone in this village, and the thought of losing anyone was soul wrenching. “How many are hurt?”

“That, I do not know,” Zen said softly. “Several of our brothers and sisters fell before my arrival. I know not the state of those who have fallen, nor how…permanent their incapacitated status is.”

Genji nodded solemnly, understanding. He would hope for the best, but be prepared for the worst.

“Somewhat more pressing is the fact that several more of our brethren have been confined within the village library. From what I have been able to surmise, our uninvited visitors intend to interrogate those held captive in hopes of revealing the location of the fortune they seek.”

Genji let out a low breath. “They’re going to torture them.”

“That is my fear.”

Genji moved to stand and was stopped by a metal hand on his shoulder. This pattern of Zenyatta stopping him from trying to take action was starting to become a trend, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it.

“Master, I have to help!” he hissed.

“And so we shall. But the wolf who hunts in a pack is more often successful than the Sparrow hunting alone.”

A terrible metaphor, but point taken. Genji took a deep breath and forced himself to relax with only marginal success. Trust. He needed to trust Zenyatta. Now more than ever.

“You have a plan?”

“I do.”

“Then I am listening, Master.”

“Go to the library’s southwest window and wait. I shall enter through the northeast door and keep them distracted while you rescue our captive brothers and sisters. Once everyone has been moved to safety, we shall dispatch our unwanted guests.”

“…That’s it?”

“Indeed.”

“Master, that…that is a terrible plan,” Genji said flatly. “It’s so terrible I don’t even know where to start.”

“Do try.”

Genji let out a sharp exhale of frustration. “I can think of a dozen ways how it could go wrong. We don’t even know how many hostiles there are or how many captives or how they are armed or…” he trailed off as Zenyatta held up a hand to silence him.

“No plan survives first contact with the enemy, my student. I merely thought it prudent to have a tentative plan in place before we are forced to improvise anyway,” Zenyatta said calmly, and motioned for Genji to follow him. “Regardless, I shall draw their attention while you remain at their backs. From there, we will do what must be done.”

Keeping low, they crept along the outskirts of the village, moving stealthily from cover to cover. Despite Zenyatta’s calming presence, worry still gnawed at Genji.

“I still do not like the idea of you offering yourself as a distraction,” he whispered as they approached the small, sturdy building that acted as the monastery’s library.

“I am well aware,” Zenyatta murmured. “And I appreciate your concern, but your skills are better put to use behind enemy lines. Go. I know you will be in position before I reach the door.”

Genji hesitated. “…Master…should I attempt to use…non-lethal means of subduing them?”

Zenyatta’s voice, if possible, became even more gentle. “That would be ideal, of course, but I hold no illusions that we may not be granted that luxury.” He gently rested a metal hand against Genji’s faceplate, as if to cup his cheek. “Do what must be done to protect the people of this village, Genji, and know that you will do it free from my judgement.”

“Thank you, Master,” Genji briefly brushed his synthetic fingertips against the back of Zenyatta’s hand. “…and please be careful.”

With that, he melted into the shadows. It only took seconds for him to ghost toward the stout building that held the library. It was small, only holding a few dozen books, but it also held the large databases of a much more extensive digital library, free for any to peruse. Genji climbed the side of the building as easily as a staircase, perching in the window and surveying the scene.

His heart sank. He counted seven intruders and zero hostages. Instead, there was a pile of omnic bodies thrown in a corner, unmoving, lights dark. His soul ached as he recognized the faceplates of those tossed aside like junk. Sister Dhanvi…Brother Batsal…Brother San23…all friends he had made here. Gone.

“Yer a fukkin’ moron,” One of the intruders snarled in English, breaking Genji out of his mourning and bringing him back to the task at hand. The speaker was looming over a smaller man, dressed like the others, but obviously more scrawny under the thick winter gear. The other five men were digging around the back of the large library servers, fiddling with the wiring. “Yer gizmo took out the bots, but it also knocked out the fukkin’ server, y’dumbass! How’re we supposed to get our intel now?”

Gizmo? Genji tried to see the device the smaller man was holding. It was round with a few dials and loose wires looped around what looked like a magnetic coil. 

“Take it easy,” the smaller man replied calmly. His accent sounded possibly British, but Genji wasn’t the best judge at English accents. “It may have shut down all the electronics, but once your men restore the power, we can reboot the servers just fine. A small delay is a fair price for subduing the omnics, especially when we’re in no rush.”

Shut down the electronics? An EMP device! If the monks were hit by an EMP, then there was a chance they were just deactivated, not dead! If they had power restored to them and rebooted successfully, they might be okay! But if they had an active EMP device, that meant that he and Zenyatta-

“Ah, my friends. Is there something I can help you with?”

All eyes turned to Zenyatta as the monk chose that moment to enter the library through the front door, sounding for all the world like an apologetically late host.

“The thing, use the gizmo!”

“I can’t!” The small man snapped. “It needs charge time between uses!”

Genji grinned like a dragon. Perfect.

“Fuck it, then!” The large man pointed a handgun at Zenyatta’s head, but never fired the shot, suddenly distracted by the three shuriken that sank into his arm.

“Arrgh!”

The room erupted into chaos. Thugs scrambled for weapons and Genji dropped down from the window, landing hard on one of the other men, driving him to the ground and leaping off him to swing a kick at a second man while throwing a shuriken into the ankle of a third. Zenyatta smoothly floated into the room, breezily deflecting a thrown punch and redirecting the thug’s momentum to send him slamming into a wall. 

Caught between two attackers, the thugs fell into confusion as Genji and Zenyatta worked together. Genji fought with a complex blend of multiple martial arts styles and the brutal street fighting he’d picked up in Blackwatch, while Zen flowed through the fight like water, using a smooth Tai Chi to manipulate the energy of the fight around him. Genji threw thugs left and right, only occasionally using his shuriken to injure, and he was even starting to think they’d get through this without any casualties on either side.

He looked over at his Master with a grin, just in time to see him glide between two thugs, tricking them into punching each other, and then felt his heart stop. The scrawny man had slipped out of the fight, lurking on the edges, waiting for an opening to strike.

“Behind you!” Genji shouted, but his warning was too late, and he watched in horror as the man swung a heavy wrench at his Master, striking him right across the exposed wiring along his back of his neck. Time seemed to slow as Zen’s back arched around the blow, sparks flying from the damaged area, and his Master let out a synthetic scream that Genji knew would haunt him in his nightmares. Zen’s lights flickered, then he dropped like a stone to the ground, orbs spilling around him, and fell still. The lights went out.

“ _Zenyatta!_ ” 

Genji’s blood boiled and he saw red. Emerald scales writhed beneath his flesh and cybernetics as the Dragon within him awakened, responding to his rage. Her eyes opened behind his own, focusing on their targets as their fury became one, then fell into his flesh as wrath overtook them.

“ _Ryūjin no ken wo kurae!_ ”

It had been a very long time since Genji had let himself be blinded by rage, but now he let it _consume_ him. The men he’d tried to peacefully subdue before now garnered no mercy, and he cut them down with brutal efficiency. It was over in moments, the library streaked with blood, and Genji stood panting amid the carnage, his ventilator hissing as it worked to keep up with his breath rate. He looked around and found one body missing: the scrawny man who had signed his death warrant by striking down his Master. The door to the library stood open, and Genji bolted into the snowy night.

There were more thugs still out in the village, and they met their end before they even knew death had come for them on emerald scales and a silver blade. He tore through the village, striking down any stranger who crossed his path, but still he found no sign of the scrawny man at the top of his shit list. In frustration, he climbed to the peak of the village shine, the highest point in the village, and looked around. 

His visor’s night vision was good, but his Dragon’s eyes were better, and they spotted their target fighting through the snow, running north away from the village. Genji let out a wordless battle cry and leapt from the building, sprinting after him with inhuman speed. He left the village behind, not bothering with stealth, wanting to strike fear into his target, wanting him to see the bloodied, glowing green cyborg come to claim his life. 

The scrawny man struggled through the snow, then glanced behind him in time to see his death sprinting toward him, sword drawn. Genji was close enough to hear the man cry out in fear when he leapt toward him, Ryūichi moji held in both hands, ready to plunge the nodachi into his back.

The EMP blast took him completely by surprise.

There was no warning. Just a burst of electromagnetic energy and all the cybernetics in Genji’s suit went dead. His synthetic muscles went slack and Ryūichi moji fell from his hands. He hit the ground hard, sprawling face first in the snow, unable to move.

No! No, not now! Not when he was so close. If only he could just… 

His beloved dragon, sister to his heart, responded to his wishes and rose up over his prone body, taking on an ethereal green form. No EMP could stop her, made of ancient spirit magic and not nanites, hard light, or other technology. She continued where her fallen master could not, and lunged forward to snap her jaws around the scrawny man. She passed through him, leaving no mark upon his body, but he collapsed nonetheless, dead before he hit the snow. Her vengeance taken and energy spent, the dragon dissipated to the winds, leaving him alone once more.

Genji lay face down in the snow, head turned to the side, suddenly aware of the silence around him. The EMP had completely killed all his cybernetics; he didn’t even have enough power for emergency readouts in his visor. Everything was just…off. He tried to move, but it was like his body couldn’t respond, couldn’t even move his head, leaving him staring at the same spot in the snow, able to see one arm sprawled in front of him.

He took a sharp, ragged breath. His heart was still pounding in his chest, having just climbed over the entire village and sprinted halfway down the mountain, but now he seemed to be struggling for breath. 

Oh. _Oh._ It wasn’t just his prosthetic limbs that were offline. It was everything. One of his lungs was synthetic and a good portion of his circulatory system was artificial. His cybernetic body was more than just prosthetics and enhancements, it was his life support. 

And it was dead.

No, no, _no!_ No, not now…not like this. The fallen monks back in the village needed to be charged and rebooted, the fires needed to be put out, the buildings repaired, and Zenyatta, oh Zenyatta… His Master, his mentor, his friend… Genji had been so consumed with rage that he hadn’t even stopped to see the extent of Zenyatta’s injuries. He should have killed the thugs in the room, let scrawny guy run, and tended to his Master right away.

Instead, now he lay alone in the cold, far outside the village, watching the falling snow slowly cover his still body while he listened to his own labored breathing. It had been years since he’d been forced to breathe without his ventilator, and the sound was weak and wheezing, even to his own ears. 

He was going to die here, alone, not even knowing if Zenyatta was alive. Mondatta was going to return from Europe and find his entire monastery dead, and it was all Genji’s fault because he couldn’t keep his damn temper in check. He could feel the cold sinking into him, what little body heat he had left escaping with the loss of his thermal support. He couldn’t even shiver, and he wasn’t able to distinguish where his offline cybernetics ended and his organic body began, all of it growing uniformly cold and numb.

His arm was now completely covered by snowfall, and the snow was starting to accumulate on his visor, effectively blinding him. Maybe no one would find him. Maybe he would be lost out here forever, his broken body claimed by the mountain. That would be alright, he thought. If he had to be buried anywhere, he would want to be here, where he became whole, in the place that he truly felt was his home. He head felt lightheaded and unfocused, finding it harder than ever to breathe. 

He didn’t _want_ to die. He had regrets, unfulfilled promises and dreams…but if he had to die today, he would at least die with his spirit at peace. He tried to make a few meditative, calming breaths and only managed a few weak gasps, but he’d become enough of a master over his own mind that he still settled his soul. He would meet the afterlife in harmony.

The image of Zenyatta collapsed on the ground sprang unbidden into his mind, and a sob broke through his gasps, shattering all the peace he’d wrapped around him. Dammit all, he couldn’t even die properly, could he? He offered a prayer to the gods or spirits or the Iris or whatever might be listening to a poor, broken cyborg, praying that Zenyatta would be safe.

With that, he let the darkness take him.

_I’m sorry, Zen._

***

He was warm. Warm and comfortable and safe. He’d just had a terrible dream that seemed to be just beyond the edge of recollection, and he couldn’t seem to work up the motivation to focus on it anyway, content to sleep in a little more. He reached absently for his blanket to bundle himself up tighter, frowning when he couldn’t seem to find it. He grumbled wordlessly, groping blindly for the blanket, and froze when another hand closed around his, metal fingers entwining between his own.

“Genji?”

Genji’s eyes fluttered open. It was well after sunrise and he was indeed in his room, staring blankly at the ceiling. His vision had no visual enhancements, indicating his visor had been removed, and he turned his head to find himself looking into the smooth faceplate of Zenyatta.

“…Master?” 

Memory returned with the force of a freight train. The alarm, the fires, the attack, Zenyatta’s unconscious body, the massacre, the EMP. Genji bolted upright.

“Master! Are you hurt? I watched you fall!”

Zenyatta’s cool gaze met his own.

“I am fine, Genji,” he said, his voice very soft. “The blow overloaded my systems, but no permanent harm was done.”

“And the other monks? Everyone else?” Genji leaned forward anxiously.

“Most affected by the attack were able to be recharged and rebooted. Unfortunately, Brother Nikett and Sister O45TK were too damaged by the feedback to their mainframes and unable to be recovered.”

Genji’s heart sank. Nikett’s greatest passion was tending to the village birdfeeders and O45TK was an excellent weaver who loved tapestries. They would both be sorely missed. Damn it all. He wasn’t able to save everyone.

Hell. It was a miracle he’d been able to save anyone with how he’d lost control. Genji held a little tighter to Zenyatta’s hand and dropped his eyes, suddenly too ashamed to meet his gaze.

“Master, I…” his voice wavered, but he couldn’t bear the thought of not admitting his failing to his Master and his words spilled out of him in a rush. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. When I saw you lying there, lifeless on the ground and surrounded by enemies, I…I couldn’t…” Tears filled his eyes and he let them fall, admitting his failings to the one individual in the world who mattered to him more than anything. “I lost control. Everything you’ve taught me over the years, and I forgot all of it in a single moment of fear and anger. I didn’t even check to see if you were safe, I just fell into my rage and…and slaughtered them. All of them. I chased them out into the snow without mercy or pity, like a monster. Please…please, allow me a chance to earn your forgiveness. I have so much more to learn. I thought I was a better man than who I was when you found me all those years ago, but it seems I still have the same…”

He trailed off as Zenyatta slowly took both Genji’s hands in his own and gently pressed them to the Jieba on his forehead.

Omnics do not cry. Omnic hands do not tremble, their shoulders do not shake, and they have no breath to shudder, but Genji knew something was wrong by the way his Master became absolutely, perfectly motionless.

“…Master?”

“Oh, my beautiful, beloved student,” Zenyatta said, his voice so soft and gentle that Genji could barely hear. “You have come so far and grown so much. I could never be anything but proud of you. That being said, I would humbly request that you do not put yourself in such a position again.”

Genji’s shoulders slumped, but he did not pull his hands away. 

“I know. I’m sorry. I should have kept my temper in check and-”

“No, Genji.”

Genji looked up sharply, so shocked by the fact that Zenyatta had interrupted him that he found himself at a loss for words.

“Moments ago, when you awoke, your first thoughts were for the safety of myself and the others in the village. Then you confessed your lapse of control and begged my forgiveness. As if I could ever hold anger toward you, my dearest student,” He slowly lowered Genji’s hands from his forehead, gently resting them down in his lap, but couldn’t seem to let Genji go. “Your selflessness and bravery are something to be lauded, and I am so proud of you for that. However…”

A glitch crackled through Zenyatta’s vocal processors that sounded alarmingly like someone choking back a sob. Genji leaned forward and held tighter to Zenyatta’s hands.

“…However, I wish you would keep at least a small portion of that concern for yourself and your well-being. When I found you half-buried in the snow, cold and still…it frightened me. I was afraid. For one terrible moment, I was certain that you had left this world to pass into the Iris.”

Genji stared at him. In all the years he’d spent with Zenyatta, he’d never seen the cool and collected omnic frightened. Distressed, maybe. Sorrowful. Irritated, even. But never afraid. 

“I am eternally grateful that I was able to interface directly with your cybernetics and recharge your internal processors,” he continued softly. “Your system even allowed me brief access to your internal diagnostics, which let me see how close you came to…to…”

He trailed off, unable to continue as he was overcome with emotion. Genji broke out of his shock and threw himself forward to embrace Zenyatta. Tears burned at his eyes and he let them spill, running down his scarred cheeks to fall onto Zen’s chestplate.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Master,” he wept. “I didn’t want…I didn’t mean…”

“I know, Genji,” Zenyatta tenderly wrapped his arms around his student, steel resting against carbon fiber, and cradled the back of his head with one hand, pulling him close. “I forgive you.”

That was too much. Genji broke down into sobs of grief, regret, and relief, clinging to his Master for support. He was vaguely aware of Zenyatta’s orbs circling around the both of them, chiming harmoniously. He melted into his embrace, sinking into Zenyatta’s lap, and cried himself out. It felt like hours before he finally let out a shaky breath and felt himself relax while the monk gently wiped away his tears.

Hell. Getting emotional was _exhausting._

He remained in Zenyatta’s embrace, letting his mind drift into a pleasant haze, aided by the gentle song of Zen’s orbs and the cool caress of metal fingertips. He was on the cusp of falling asleep when Zenyatta’s voice roused him.

“Genji? Are you asleep?”

His eyes fluttered open, though he made no attempt to move.

“…I am here.”

Zen’s lap was more comfortable than it had any right to be. It was genuinely surprising, the more he thought about it. Logically, Genji knew Zen’s legs were hard steel underneath those loose pants, but he was just as comfortable here as he was curled up on his bed.

“Forgive me from denying you the rest you need, but will you do me the honor of allowing me to ask the question that has been consuming me ever since you awoke?”

Genji needed a moment to navigate through the confusingly worded question.

“…Of course, Master.”

“How are you feeling?”

He couldn’t help himself; Genji broke into a startled laugh and finally pulled himself up, sitting back on his mattress on the floor. 

“You ask me that question after all…” he gestured vaguely, not quite sure what even he was getting at himself. “Master, that is a very simple question with a very complicated answer.”

“The most interesting kind of question,” Zenyatta agreed.

Genji sighed, but smiled fondly as he considered how to answer. 

“I think…I am not fine. But I will be.”

Zenyatta inclined his head thoughtfully. 

“A wise answer, but perhaps I should rephrase my question: Do you need medical attention?”

“Oh.” 

Did he? He felt fine, but that didn’t always mean anything these days. He was fairly limited on what he could feel inside himself anymore, and he _did_ just have a near-death experience… He picked up his visor from where it had been set beside the bed and put it on, calling up his internal diagnostics with a thought. He scanned through the system report that scrolled across the visor HUD. Shit. Zen was right. He’d had one hell of a close call. Core temperature had dropped to critical levels, his SpO2 had fallen below 70%, and his heart had just started an arrhythmic pattern when Zenyatta had rebooted his cybernetics. After that, his readings all seemed to normalize and remain that way.

“No,” he finally said decisively. “It seems I was dying because my life support was disabled and when you reactivated it I…well…stopped dying.”

He bowed his head.

“Thank you, Master. It appears you have saved me once again.”

“I will confess that I prefer to be responsible for your spiritual salvation over your continued mortal existence,” Zen said. “It’s far less terrifying and employs a great deal more meditation and tea, which is more preferable to bandages and emergency hotwiring. But you are most welcome.”

Genji stopped.

_Wait._

“Hotwiring?” Genji asked. 

“Ah…” Zenyatta actually sounded embarrassed. “I may have perhaps exaggerated the ease of which I was to able interface your cybernetics to my mainframe. I was forced to utilize…creative methods to allow me access to your _remarkably_ well protected systems, both hardware and software.”

“Are you saying you hotwired me like a stolen car?” Genji asked, sure he was supposed to feel violated, but instead feeling rather impressed.

“I assure you,” Zen said with that absolute calm confidence that Genji had grown to love. “that I would only steal the most luxurious of cars. Only the finest deluxe models.” 

“Well, then it had better be sleek.”

“Absolutely. Very streamlined.”

“And stylish.”

“Oh, unquestionably stylish. Very sporty, too. Fit and trim.”

“Now you’re just flattering me.”

“You? I thought we were discussing automobiles and the criminal element.”

Genji laughed, his heart a little lighter already, but he could feel exhaustion rising up to meet him once again. 

“Rest,” Zenyatta said, sensing Genji’s fatigue and urged him to lie back on the bed. “We can discuss more once you awaken next.”

“Thank you,” Genji said and curled up on his mattress. Zenyatta laid a thick quilt over him, the same blanket he’d been blindly searching for when he first awoke. 

“You are most welcome, my dearest student. I will be here when you wake.”

On that reassuring promise, Genji let himself drift into sleep once more, calm and gentle as falling snow.

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, hit me up at my [writing tumblr](dabbledrabbleprose.tumblr.com)!


End file.
